


Malicious Negligence

by Plotbunnyhunter



Series: Promtober OneShots - TSS Fanfiction Discord [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Grim reaper au, Prompt Fill, Promptober, all the sides make a brief appearance, due to the nature of this AU, greetings go out to the Joan collective, major character death only mentioned very briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plotbunnyhunter/pseuds/Plotbunnyhunter
Summary: Thomas wanted to enjoy himself on a quiet afternoon off. Instead he gets told he only has seven minutes left to live.These seven minutes do not pass by as expected.Fill for Promptober Day 01 - Grim Reaper AU (in honour of parallelmonsoon).
Relationships: Thomas Sanders & The Sides
Series: Promtober OneShots - TSS Fanfiction Discord [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959691
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Malicious Negligence

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @Goldenmeme over on tumblr for putting together the prompt list.  
> Shout-out to the TSS Fanfiction Discord Server, and shout-out to @parallelmonsoon over on tumblr for running it and indirectly inspiring this prompt.

It happened on one of these quiet afternoons in early May. When April's chaos had just dispersed and the suffocating heat of the Floridan summer was still a few weeks away. One moment Thomas Sanders was editing some short sketch video on his living room couch, barely paying attention to the stray rays of sunlight soaking through his blinds into the room and painting his form in a slight, golden hue.

The next moment a human-shaped shadow loomed over him, startling Thomas into almost dropping the laptop carefully balanced on his knees. With nowhere else to go, Thomas skittered to the other side of the couch, close to climbing over the backrest.

The person that had suddenly appeared in front of him seemed unperturbed, pale fingers adjusting a blue-striped tie around their neck. Now that Thomas looked closer at them, he almost let out another yelp, because the dress shirt and tidied appearance non-withstanding, that person looked exactly like him.

„Good afternoon, Mr. Sanders.“, said Not-Thomas in a careful monotone, „Apologies for the impromptu appearance, but I am here to inform you that you-“, Thomas watched, wide-eyed, as the person pulled a clipboard and pen out of nowhere, briefly checking something written on the papers. They interrupted themselves with a single, brief cough and adjusted their tie once again.

If Thomas was starting to sweat, then it was only in solidarity with the other guy's apparent nervosity. No other reason.

„As I was saying, I regret to inform you that you, Thomas Foley Sanders, are going to die in exactly seven minutes and thirty-six seconds.“

Thomas stared. 

A beat of silence.

„What?“

„I understand this is a lot to take in, but worry not, any feelings of panic you are experiencing now are only temporary, as are all things in life.“, Not-Thomas pronounced the word 'feelings' with the same hesitation people used to inform their hairdresser that their new haircut was just to their satisfaction, _really_.

„What?“, said Thomas dumbly, overtaken by the temporary feeling of utter confusion and panic.

Not-Thomas sighed.

„It is my duty to inform you-“

„Who even are you?“ Thomas found his voice somewhere in his brain's confusion, standing up from the couch, „Why do you look like me? How do you look like me? And how did you get in here?!“, He threw a glance behind himself at the front door, which remained as closed as he had left it.

„Fear not, Mr. Sanders.“, said Not-Thomas without missing a blink, „all your questions are going to be answered in seven minutes and eight seconds-“

„Are you threatening me?“

„Fear not, humble citizen!“, bellowed a voice out of nowhere, making Thomas look around in surprise. Despite a strange accent, the voice felt somewhat familiar.

With a bow and some flourish, another person popped into existence next to Thomas' TV, dressed in a red sash and the exact same face and voice as Thomas.

„I come to inform you that your adventure will continue in another- ugh Logan what are you doing here.“ All of a sudden the grandeur had left the Second-Not-Thomas' posture as he slumped and glared at the first Not-Thomas – Logan?

Logan folded his arms over his chest defensively, „I'm doing my job and you are interrupting.“

„No you're not!“ the second person had walked up to them, rifling through a red manilla folder which had appeared in their arms out of nowhere. Thomas took a tentative step back, but neither of them seemed to notice. „There it is! I was assigned to guide the soul of Thomas Foley Sanders to the other side. And I know I can't be wrong about this because I make absolutely sure to get the rainbow people, if you catch my drift.“

„The assignments are entirely random, Roman. You are disturbing me at my job and wasting this poor soul’s last few minutes of its existence on earth.“, Logan rebutted.

Thomas used the two guy's distraction with each other to move back towards his dining table, where he had left his phone. If these two guys were going to attempt to kill him now, maybe they would get caught red-handed by emergency services. And the police.

Careful not to attract attention to himself with sudden movements, Thomas slowly extended his hand towards his phone, fingers coiling tightly around the plastic frame-

„I wouldn't do that if I were you.“

Thomas shouted, throwing the phone behind him reflexively, where the uncanny voice had breathed down his neck. Whirling around, he caught sight of his phone disappearing in the open kitchen with a loud clank, and yet another person sitting with their legs crossed on his dining room table. 

The noise alerted the other two arguing, both of them looking at Thomas in confusion, as if they hadn't noticed he wasn't standing next to them anymore.

The Not-Thomas on the table chuckled lightly, leaning back, while Thomas clutched at his chest, breathing hard. His poor heart couldn't handle so many jumpscares in a row.

„Ugh, what are you doing here? It's not even your season, Spooky, begone!“, bellowed Roman.

„Who are you people!“, yelled Thomas, before the guys could get into another round of bickering over his head.

They blinked at him. The newest arrival scowled.

„Looks like you aren't doing your job properly, passionista.“, he turned to Thomas with a lazy wave of his hand, „We're grim reapers, but usually people only get picked up by one at a time.“ 

His eyes widened under long, dark bangs, casting his gaze around the room, searching for something. „Oh no, do you have kids that might burn up with you or something? Because I totally don't do kids. I can't deal with them.“

Logan 'tsked. „At least do your research before attempting to do other people's jobs for them, Virgil. Mr. Sanders here lives by himself, has no children and is not in any relationships. And judging by his non-existent cooking habits, he won’t die in a fire either.“

Roman grimaced. Thomas would have, but his brain was still to busy with the strangers in his house knowing things about him.

Roman clasped Thomas on the shoulder, pretending not to notice Thomas' flinch and the colour fading from his cheeks. „Don't worry, there are plenty of hot dudes on the other side to choose from, you still have all the time in – well, not this world, but the other one – to find a dashing prince becoming for you.“

„Roman, don't lie to him.“, came a velvety voice from the couch. All people present turned around to watch another Thomas doppelganger sitting on it, gloved hands clasped together in his lap, an easy grin playing on his lips which sadly did nothing to distract from the scales covering half his face. 

Virgil hissed at him, Logan looked alert and Roman ghuffed in disbelief.

The new arrivals grin fell at the reaction.

„What the hell are you wearing.“, laughed Roman at him, theatrically pointing a finger at the very put-out looking man wearing only half of Thomas' body for a change.

Thomas was starting to feel a little faint.

The new guy rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but got interrupted by Logan.

„This behaviour is unacceptable, how none of you have been fired yet is beyond me.“ the guy ranted at them, „It is imperative that Mr. Sanders is informed of his inevitable demise in a concise and informative manner, which all of you are interrupting. Your client is running out of time and you guys are playing dress up.“

Roman and Virgil at least had the manners to look away in shame, Virgil now fishing for a small, black notebook in mid-air.

„Surely you would know about presentation.“, mumbled the guy on the couch, blushing slightly, but his remark went unheard as the doorbell rang.

Everyone in the room tensed.

„This is probably no one“, Thomas tried appeasing the crowd. They were in a clear majority, and he wasn't about to let them kill one of his friends or neighbours because they dared to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, „They'll leave in a second, no need to check the door-“

The doorbell rang again, the person on the other side insisting on dying with Thomas, as it stood.

Thomas broke out in cold sweat, when Logan began to move towards the front door. „Listen, if you're after me that's fine, but this might be my sweet neighbour, and she really has children, and-“, he hissed, following Logan, to the door.

Before Logan could open it however, a knock resounded at it, and a familiar voice spoke up.

„Mr. Sanders, are you home? Do you have a moment to talk about your inevitable demise?“

Thomas scrunched his eyebrows together, but Logan just opened the door with a sigh.

„You are late Patton. If this were your assignment, which it is not, you would have already messed it up.“ Logan chastised, as yet another person with Thomas' face came into view, this one wearing a blue polo, glasses, and a radiant smile.

„Oh, Logan, did I get the address wrong? I didn't know you were working in the neighbourhood!“, the person said sunnily, brushing Logan's criticism off like nothing. Thomas wanted to scream.

„'Sup Patton!“, yelled Roman from the living room, to which Patton answered with an equally as enthusiastic „Hello!“ back and was already standing in Thomas' hallway, having invited himself in.

He took his shoes off dutifully and followed a put-out Logan back to the others, greeting everyone in the room with hugs and kisses and friendly waves.

Thomas remained standing at the entrance of the living room, his back to the front door, equally wondering whether he had lost his mind or should just take his chance to escape while the unwelcome guests were distracted. Another searching look around the room revealed Virgil watching him carefully from his position on the table, stopping that idea in its tracks.

„Guy's something isn't right.“, said Virgil quietly, successfully catching no one's attention as they bickered among themselves. Only Thomas was watching him, and Virgil shakily took this as his cue to continue speaking, „What would Thomas even die off? Even heart-attack symptoms should have started long ago, and he is a healthy young adult in his thirties.“ This gained him the other’s attention, everyone one of them looking at Thomas with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Even the scale-guy had gotten up from the couch.

„Huh. How peculiar.“, said Logan, summoning his clipboard again and scanning the information written on it.

„As if none of us are supposed to be here yet.“, said scale-guy, contemplative.

„And get this, he's scheduled for diabetes in another ten years. The Pestilence department doesn't give out appointments for people who are supposed to be dead.“

„They do, actually. It's a nightmare to sift through when the conditions overlap, let me tell you.“, Roman informed them.

Thomas made one careful step back into the hallway without turning around, his heart pumping in his ears, utterly done with the situation.

He only got a split second of warning to register the horrendous smell filling the room as another person appeared barely an inch away from his face, yellow, uneven teeth on display in a maddening grin.

„Boo.“

Thomas' made another undignified noise, instinctively jerking back from the appearance in front of him. Jumping back, he tripped over Patton's freshly discarded shoes. 

Thomas lost first his balance and then his life as he fell and cracked his head open on the hallway tiles.

The grim reapers in the room only watched in open-mouthed surprise.

The new guy was the first to recover.

„Hey guys, what did I miss?“ 

Everyone looked at each other in dawning realisation, not daring to speak yet.

Scale-guy clapped his hands, once.

„Welp. That explains it. Let's put a mark under this guy's file and hope we never see each other again.“

„Agreed.“ 


End file.
